


Meaningless

by ColorblindCity



Category: Bones, Bones (TV)
Genre: Drabble, Episode s05e08: The Foot in the Foreclosure, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Jewelry, Reflection, Romance, Season 5 Spoilers, The Foot in the Foreclosure, necklace, season 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-24
Updated: 2012-04-24
Packaged: 2017-11-04 06:17:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/390714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColorblindCity/pseuds/ColorblindCity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anthropologically, there were many reasons for jewelry in a culture's development. Some offered protection from evil spirits, some were meant to help their owners do something difficult, some attracted good situations; some conceded powers to the person wearing them. But aside from the impossible, supernatural expectations, jewels –as well as clothes- were meant to attract the opposite sex, whether it was a male giving them to a female in order to express his interest, or a female showing them around to catch the male's attention. </p><p>Set after "The Foot in the Foreclosure"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meaningless

**Author's Note:**

> Set right after the ending of The Foot in the Foreclosure, after Booth and Brennan drop off Pops. I just had a big fondness for that scene about the necklace.
> 
> I wrote this a while ago, I'm just moving up my stuff from FF.

  
  
  
The ride back to the lab was quiet, the silence was a strange mixture between awkward and comfortable; she absentmindedly played with her necklace, which was weird because, even though she wears necklaces all the time, she never acknowledges their presence, like a lot of things, they've become second nature.  
  
Booth was right, the necklace was indeed new, she couldn't remember when or where she bought it, and a few years ago, she wouldn't even have tried to bring herself to care.  
  
She had an immense collection of necklaces from all over the world and from many different cultures, some were gifts from aborigine women who had, somehow, related her to one of their legends, some were given as a courtesy for visiting a person's house in an Asiatic country, some were very beautiful, some were captivating, some were a little weird-looking, some seemed rather ugly to her, some were made of fine semi jewels –jade, quartz, onyx-, some were even creepy -made of animal bones-; some of them tangled on her hair too easily, some of them were very difficult to take off, some needed several minutes to be put on properly…  
  
She couldn't understand why, though, this very particular set of proportionally arranged metal chains hanging around her neck was demanding to be noticed.  
  
It was very simple, very cheap, very common, maybe even unworthy of belonging in the same place as all the other interesting and unusual jewelry items of her possession.  
  
And yet, that American piece of crap, most likely coming from Taiwan and bought at a random store, was making her think about all these inanimate objects which were a rather big part of her normal life, and yet totally irrelevant.  
  
Anthropologically, there were many reasons for jewelry in a culture's development. Some offered protection from evil spirits, some were meant to help their owners do something difficult, some attracted good situations; some conceded powers to the person wearing them. But aside from the impossible, supernatural expectations, jewels –as well as clothes- were meant to attract the opposite sex, whether it was a male giving them to a female in order to express his interest, or a female showing them around to catch the male's attention.  
  
As the occidental culture evolved, it seemed women got overly obsessed with decorative items while men stopped paying them attention; they became a sign of status, females trying to prove other females they are better because they have prettier jewels or clothes.  
  
But for her, not the anthropologist, but the woman, they meant nothing; they were just an inoffensive parasite in her life.  
  
She realized this with a sudden, unexplainable sadness.  
  
"Bones, stop! You're gonna break that thing!" Booth's voice brought her back to reality, where she was pulling at the fragile chains around her neck.  
  
She released them from her grip, folding her hands on her lap. "I'll tell you what he really told me if you tell me what he really told you" she offered, trying to dissipate the nagging sadness and longing she felt.  
  
Booth took a deep breath, weighing his options. "He said everything was in here" he put one hand on top of his heart and smiled lightly at her before looking back ahead.  
  
"He told me not to be scared" she whispered back, staring at him intently. He felt her gaze and looked at her; seeping through the confusion, he could see the suspicion in her eyes, and maybe he was so desperate he imagined it, but he saw hope; small, careful and guarded by logic hope. He smiled tenderly, as if to say "Come out hope, there's nothing to fear" before remembering the importance of keeping his eyes on the road.  
  
She kept staring at him, feeling that maybe if she stared long enough the mystery behind pops' words would magically solve, she knew all the impossibilities in that reasoning, but in that moment she didn't feel like caring.  
  
Without realizing, she went back to pulling at her necklace.  
  
Five blocks away from the Jeffersonian, she gave up. She sighed and looked down, pulling at the chains more forcefully, and then, without a warning, her hands fell on her lap along with several shiny metal straps.  
  
"Bones! I told you you were gonna break it! aaw!" he whined, somehow managing to sound like a 5 year old and a nagging mother at the same time.  
  
Brennan would've laughed at his expression, if she wasn't so incredibly mad about this, she felt angry tears fill her eyes; first, she was sad that she broke it, second, she was angry that SHE broke it, and third, she couldn't believe she wanted to cry over a necklace.  
  
Booth parked in the Jeffersonian lot, he was going to get out the car when he saw that she hadn't moved, and it didn't look like she had any intentions to.  
  
She sniffed and closed her eyes to keep the tears at bay. "I liked that one" she stated after taking a deep breath. She sighed and opened her eyes to look at him, she almost smiled at the evident worry displayed in his face. "It was just a necklace" she tried to smile and frowned instead. Truth was, it didn't feel like just a necklace, she had no idea why but it was more than that, it felt like some kind of a friend, a faithful, selfless friend.  
  
She picked the silver remains, closing her hand around them, then she took Booth's hand and placed them in is palm, looking at him sadly before getting out of the car.  
  
Booth sat there for a while, staring at the once-so-pretty thing in his hand.  
  
Later that night, around ten thirty, Brennan was standing over a set of bones from World War II, when she heard quick yet heavy footsteps behind her, so she took off her gloves, knowing she wasn't going to get anything else done because Booth would to drag her to The Diner.  
  
She turned around to find him standing a few feet from her, his hand was behind his back and a bright boyish smile was gracing his face. She smiled back, this time for real, because nothing else could make her smile so easily.  
  
"I got something for you" she just narrowed her eyebrows in confusion. He pulled his hand out, opening it in front of her to reveal the small bunch of metal chains, she looked at him questioningly, and his smile just grew even more as he lifted them to show her they were all together again.  
  
She was just staring at him, her mouth slightly open, and he was starting to worry; what did I do wrong?, he thought, I made sure they were all longer than the next one, I got rid of the broken links, I even…  
  
He was cut off his thoughts when she hugged him, it took a moment before he understood and hugged back. "Thank you" she whispered against his shoulder. "You're welcome" he said, squeezing her a little too tight and earning a chuckle from her.  
  
They stood there, hugging, and she wondered how a lifeless piece of low-quality metal with no anthropological meaning or purpose could make someone so happy.


End file.
